The Patriot's Son (was: Untitled)
by Draco's Secret Lover
Summary: Anita Covinten and her mother go to stay with Charlotte for a few months during the war. What will happen when she meets the Martin children? PG might change later, I dunno what's gonna happen yet.
1. Of Fairies and Forests

I don't own The Patriot, or else I'd be really rich and I could just make a movie of this little idea instead of writing it all out. Anyway, I only got to see this movie once, and then I had to give it back to Amy, and I don't remember any of the Martin children's names except for Nathan and Gabriel, so I'm not gonna make then all talk until later, and if you know the other's names, could you please please *please* list them in the review? And....ummm......Yeah, well that's all then.  
  
  
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(This part is supposed to be writing) Dear Diary,  
  
Mother has told me that I must tread lightly when speaking with any of these Martin children, but she would not tell me as of why. "And make certain that you don't go asking about them either." She has also told me to take care when I am in view of Charlotte Selton, my mother's best friend. She speaks highly of Miss Charlotte, so she *must be a very classy lady. Anyway, we will be staying at Miss Charlotte's plantation home for a bit whilst we wait for this dreadful war to be over. Speaking of which,   
  
GOD BLESS AMERICA!  
  
Yours Cordially,   
Anita Covinten  
  
The red-headed girl put down her pencil and looked up to catch her first glimpse of the plantation that she would call home for the next few months, or so. It was just as she had expected, white, with grand columns supporting the roof of the large, showy front porch. She could see the much smaller homes of the slaves and farmhands partly concealed behind the house, situated among a grove of trees. Further back, there were fields, and beyond this, the forest. Anita smiled to herself. She loved the forest. Her mother would only allow her to go in back home after she had finished her studies, which she positively loathed. Pulling closer, she could see a figure sitting on the front porch in a rocking chair, left of the door.   
  
As they got within hearing distance, the figure sat upright. 'They must have been sleeping.' Anita thought. The figure ran into the house, and a moment later, a woman appeared in the doorway. Once our carriage had stopped, mother climbed out and called to her. The two women embraced, and I was introduced to Miss Charlotte Selton. Our groundskeeper, who has been with us ever since I can remember, who we hired only hours after he was granted his freedom, Phrough Green, stepped down and hoisted our three bags off the roof. He set them down and tipped his hat at Miss Charlotte. Mother, Miss Charlotte, and I each picked up a bag and we headed towards the house.  
  
Once inside, I found it very pleasant, reminding me of a picture that was in one of my old reading books. The figure that was on the porch, a boy about my age in a straw hat and overalls, was standing on the staircase with four other children. He regarded me with an air of not really caring, even though his brothers and sisters-at least I assumed these to be the Martin children-were obviously curious. It was typical of the boys that went to my school. I dropped my bag at my feet and pushed my hair behind my ears. It was always getting in my face, especially when it was humid out, as it was today, when it got all frizzy.  
  
Charlotte called all the children to the bottom of the steps, and began to introduce them, starting with the oldest. The boy from the porch. "Miss Anita, I'd like you to meet Nathan, ..." At that point, the boy, Nathan, took off his hat to reveal long-ish sandy brown-blonde hair and brown (?) eyes. He gave a half smile that revealed a light dusting of freckles, and reached out to shake my hand. I reached out and as our hands touched, he looked me right in the eyes. One by one, the other Martin children did the same thing, and, like Nathan, they all looked into my eyes. They all resembled each other a bit, but what really struck me was the sadness that was held by each of them, only really noticeable when one looked them right in the eye.   
  
After the introductions were over, of which I really remember very little, I'm ashamed to say, beyond Nathan, Miss Charlotte showed my mother and I to our rooms. We each had our own, and though they were smaller than those at home, I did like these much better. Mother's room, which we went to first, had a window overlooking the drive up to the house. The walls were a light pink, Mother's favorite color. There were little accents of different floral prints everywhere. It was rather nice, but I secretly hoped that my room would not have so much pink and so many flowers. After Mother was settled in, Miss Charlotte walked only a door away and across the hall to my room. I was unable to hide my smile when she opened the door, seeing as how I had a view of the forests behind the house. I set my bag on the floor and thanked her for letting us stay with her, as Mother had told me to do earlier. Miss Charlotte said that we were always welcome, and went off about whatever business she had been to before we arrived, after telling me that dinner would be at six.  
  
I now took time to look around my room. It was painted green, my favorite color. Our groundskeeper had taken Green as his last name when he had come to live with us, and it was because I liked it so. Before that, as a slave, he had simply gone as Phrough. It had pictures of landscapes on the walls instead of the flowers in Mother's room. I looked into each of the two small doors leading off of my rooms and found that I had a closet and a small washroom. I put my things away, and then pushed a chair from the desk to the window, where I sat for near on an hour just looking at the trees. I made up all sorts of stories in my head about fairies and elves, and was just beginning one about a lonely wood sprite when there was a knock at my door. "Come in." I called and the door opened, to reveal Nathan, and his littlest sister, whose name I could not remember.   
  
"Charlotte wanted us to come and get you for dinner. Your mother is already downstairs." He said to me. I stood up and went out the door, casting one more look at the woods, and silently vowing to finish the Sprite story later. "You like the woods?" Nathan asked, catching my longing glances. I nodded, slightly embarrassed. The others at my school had teased me once they found out about me going into the forests and making up all the stories. "My sister and I will walk you out there after dinner, if you like."  
  
"I would love to." I nearly shouted with joy at exploring new terrain, but was able to contain myself. Nathan gave me his little half-smile again, and I felt an odd twitch in my stomach. I had never felt this before. It was like someone put a hand on either side of me and gave a short, light squeeze. When it happened, my heart took an extra beat. This new feeling, which was slightly alarming, made me happy, and for some odd reason, left me wishing that dinner would be over before it even began.  
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Okay, so how'd ya like it so far? Please review, and please tell me the children's names. I can't remember any other than Nathan and Gabriel, and it's rather had to write them into the conversation if they don't have names. 


	2. A Happy Place or Greensleeves

Okay, first off, this ain't mine. Obviously, or I'd know what the kids names were. Secondly, thanks to T.H., J, and meg for listing the names for me, blondy bear for reviewing yet another one of my stories, Dead Poet, for finally reading some of my stuff in her busy schedule ;) (And yes, that certain evil, yet alluring one will be making an appearance, what would one of my stories be without an evil villain? -But not for a while yet.) and avariel (I wasn't thinking when I wrote that or I would have caught it. I write many different things, and sometimes I get my time periods mixed. Let's pretend that she was home schooled by her mother and three aunts and the 'boys at her school were really her seventeen cousins. How's that? Better? I can't believe I missed that! As Blondy Bear or Dead Poet could tell you, I carry lots of stuff around with me to insure consistency and accuracy. {Remember my clipboard?} I dunno, that does irritate me though. Jeez. [Hits herself in the forehead]) Also, I do have a 'particular aversion to romances' (thanks for the quote, Gina!) yet this came to me in a dream, so you all must put up with it :) Happy Reading!!!  
  
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The first thing that I did after dinner was run up to my room, once I was out of sight of Mother, of course, and wash my face and change out of my traveling dress. I pulled my favorite one out of the dresser, and pulled it on. It was green, of course, with none of the frills and lace that were so popular with all her friends back in the city. It had bell sleeves straight out of one of Father's old history books, and a collar that was cut square. That was an accident, because my puppy knocked a bowl over on the table when mother was cutting the material. She had to square it off, so as there wasn't a stain. But the end result was very nice, and paired with the simple A line skirt, it looked like something from the renaissance. After getting re-dressed, I found my boots and laced them up. I pinned my silly hair back from my face, and walked back down the stairs.  
  
The oldest of the Martin girls was standing in the doorway to the outside, peering in. She called to me, and I went over to her. "We've waited on the porch because it was too hot inside. My brother said that you wanted to go into the forest, right?"  
  
I nodded, and she pulled the door open as I stepped out. "You'll have to forgive me," I began, "But I'm terrible with names and I can't remember if you're Susan or Margaret."  
  
She giggled a bit, and said "Margaret, but they call me Meg. You don't have to worry about getting us mixed up, we're used to it by now." She stepped off the porch and onto the driveway. "Come on," she urged. "Nathan's waiting out by the field." I got that funny feeling in my stomach again when she said Nathan's name, but I just pushed it aside, determined to have fun in the new forests.  
  
As Meg and I rounded the house, I could see Nathan sitting under a tall tree. He had his back to us, and looked to be sleeping. I wondered how long he had been there. He still didn't stir as we drew closer, and I saw that he really *was sleeping. Meg poked him with the toe of her boot, and he sat upright, and his hat fell behind him. He looked around, with just his eyes, and then got up and retrieved his hat. He looked at the two of us and smiled, rather sheepishly.  
  
"Come on then. We haven't got all day." He said, then turned on his heel, trying to regain *some dignity. Meg and I looked at each other, giggled, and followed him across the field.  
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These forests were just as beautiful and mysterious as the ones back home. Towering trees, bubbling brooks, and I found three toadstool rings. There is one place in particular, however, that stands out above the rest. Beside one of the streams, there was this little place that had been hollowed out by running water. A tree had fallen over into it, and it made a sort of a bench. There was bright green moss all over it, and the ground, all the way up the side of the hollow, and to the waters edge. There were these adorable little purple flowers growing all through it, and little tree seedlings around the edges. As it was dusk, the lightning bugs were beginning to come out, and they made it altogether magical. As I sat on the log, I made up all sorts of stories, mostly about the place I was in. After I was there for a while, watching the stream, Meg ran up to me and said that she was returning to the house, but Nathan would still be out. I nodded, to show that I had heard, and she went off.  
  
Near on fifteen minutes after Meg had gone, I began humming to myself. I first hummed one of the piano pieces that my Mother favored, Fur Elise, by Beethoven. It suited the scene perfectly, but soon I grew tired of it. I hummed nonsense things, until something I recognized came out of my mouth. I couldn't place it, but I knew how it went. It took all the way until I got to the chorus before I realized that it was 'Greensleeves', the piece that my Father had sang to me when I was younger, before he died. He had contracted tuberculosis, and was gone before I could say goodbye. It made my heart heavy to think of him, so I concentrated on the lyrics. After I hummed it once through, I started over, singing softly and twirling about. I pretended that I was the beautiful princess, of whom the song was written, and I was so deep in thought that I didn't hear him approach.  
  
I felt someone enter the little hollow before I heard anything, and I spun around to see who was there. It was Nathan. He had taken his hat off now, since the sun had gone, I supposed, and was leaning against a tree at the edge. I got embarrassed after realizing that he had heard me singing, and my Mother may have a beautiful voice, and so did my Father, but I didn't exactly inherit it. "I like your song." He started, softly, almost wistful. "My mother used to sing it." He looked at his feet and toed the dirt.  
  
Suddenly, I got this overwhelming desire to give him a hug. It was very peculiar, as that had never happened to me before. I'm not a very affectionate person, I heard my Mother saying that to one of her friends once in the city. We went to the city every weekend, so we had many friends there. I frowned, and rocked back and forth for a moment. I wished that I knew what was wrong; perhaps I could do something about it. I took a step forward, then another, then I hesitated for a moment. 'Why?' I asked myself. 'Well, why not." Myself answered. 'Really, you're such a chicken.' Me told I. (Sorry 'bout that. Had ta get it outta me system!~*) I took a determined breath, and went to him (dragging me and myself with her. {Sorry. I'm done now. =/ ~*}). He jumped a little when I put my arms around him, but he didn't hesitate to return the hug. After that, I was lost as to what to do. I decided that the natural thing to do would be to put my head on his shoulder, so I did. (So did me and myself. Okay, okay. I lied. My bad. Hyper-ness abounds!)  
  
We stood like that for a moment, and then Nathan took a deep breath and pulled away. He turned quickly, and brushed one hand across his eyes before turning back. He said, "I came to tell you that it was late, and we should get back."  
  
I nodded, feeling a bit lost, and cast a retreating glance over my shoulder at my Happy Place. (Happy place, Gina! Don't think about Herm and his Father, okay. Just don't. Oh, wait, are you still in your Happy Place?.. No?.. Oh. My bad. Tee-Hee.~*) I followed him, a little ways back, as he grabbed his hat from wherever it was that he had left it. It was only a little after sunset when we reached the house, but it seemed like we had all spent forever in the woods, yet at the same time it felt as if we were hardly there at all. Strange. Nathan went directly to his room on the first floor without even saying anything to me. I was suddenly angry, and flounced up to my room, shutting the door a little harder than I had planned to.  
  
  
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Okay, how did you all like it? If you do review, which I *know you all will, I'd like a few suggestions on how to write this one out. I have gotten to the part in my dream where I woke up (right after they started to hug.) and now, with my 'particular aversion to romances' I am at a bit of a loss. Please add your two cents. Or three cents. Or, heck! Even a quarter, if you can spare it!   
  
Author  
a.k.a. D.S.L.  
a.k.a. Lexie Brooklyn (Never feah! Brooklyn is heah!)  
a.k.a. Witch Bitch 


	3. Samuel or The Nightmare

Okay, since the number of people who offered their two cents about the continuation was particularly low-- :cough, cough: NONE!! :cough, cough: -, I had to come up with it on my own. PLEASE review and give me a *little* something to go on, at least. Oh, yeah, I nearly forgot. Thank you very much to all who have reviewed so far!!  
  
Glittering Pegasus-I *loved* your JP story-obviously, if you've read the reviews-and I'm glad that you like mine.   
  
Dead Poet-Oh, sorry. So you're not in that Happy Place now? Hmm. Can't *imagine* why!! (Tee Hee.) Just think about that Toothpick of Doom, and the Demon Smurf and you should be just fine again. Let nothing to do with Matt-shaped cheese, feather boas, or the Brooklyn Bridge into that twisted, visual mind of your's. Oh, and keep all references to Lucius out, okay? So how's that Happy Place?  
  
RoryLeighDugray-Nope, sorry. I don't much like Gabriel. Anne dosen't bother me, but Gabriel is too much of a pretty boy. So's Heath Ledger, by the way...  
  
MovieDork10-Thanks for the review.  
  
So, On With The Show!! (This is it... sorry, I couldn't resist. I'm *very* hyper again. Have you noticed that I only get actual work done when I am? That, Blondy and Dead Poet, is why I can't sit still in choir....It has nothing to do with the fact that I want that Hell-Bitch (and no, I'm emphatically *not* referring to Glory.) dead. In a slow, barbaric, tourturous way...Oh, sorry. A bit of track there, eh? *looks around to make sure no one noticed* Hm. Right.  
  
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Anita sat in her chair by the window and brushed out her hair. One hundred strokes. Well, around one hundred anyways. She usually lost count and just had to estimate. 'Why can't I be more like Mother?' She wondered to herself. 'Mother is always perfect, but look at me.' She put down her brush and went into her little bathroom. There was a wash basin there, with a small mirror hanging above it. She tried to twist her hair up in the fancy ways her mother did, but finally threw down her hands in disgust. 'I just can't do it. I'll never be pretty like Mother. I must get this right, for Nathan.' She brushed her hair again, getting out the knots that had come back whilst she twisted it. Suddenly, she stopped. 'Get it right...for *Nathan*? Where on Earth did something like *that* come from?' She shook her head and turned down the lamp. She pulled the comfortor back from the bed, and crawled beneath it.   
  
She sighed, listening to the crickets chirping. It was so nice here, away from those awful gunshots and cannon blasts. 'Wait a moment....crickets? Where are they coming from. I don't think I opened the window....Oh, Goodness! They must be in the house!' Anita's eyes grew wide. She absolutely *hated* it when bugs and animals got into the house. She didn't mind them at all when they were outside, where they were supposed to be. She threw the blankets back and crawled to the foot of her bed. She knew that if she stretched, she'd be able to turn the lamp back up without setting foot on the floor. There was no way that she was going to chance stepping on one of those dreadful things barefoot.  
  
She finally managed to get to the lamp, and the room was flooded with a flickering light. She looked all over the floor before she stepped off the bed, and proceeded to search every corner of the room for the intruder. She couldn't find it, and moved on to the bathroom. Nothing there either. 'Oh, gracias, Anita. You're being a *girl*.' She mentally scolded herself. 'Go back to bed and forget about it. It's not even in your room.' She nodded, agreeing with herself, and moved to go back to bed.   
  
But as she reached the lamp again, another sound caught her attention. She knew instinctively what it was. Someone was crying softly from down the hall. She began to go, but remembered that she was in her nightgown. As quick as she could, she put her dress from earlier back on.   
  
The hallway was dark, and the curtains over the window were pulled. Anita felt her way towards where the sound was, ending up at a door on the very end of the hall. Knocking softly, she pushed it open. She half expected it to be one of the girls, but it was Samuel. He was sitting in the corner, on the floor, with the comforter from his blanket around him. He had his face buried in his arms, which were propped up on his knees. He jerked his head up at the sound of the door opening, but it was too late to hide it.  
  
"Oh, Samuel! What's wrong?" Anita kneeled on the floor next to the boy, not really knowing what to say.  
  
"Those men.....All 'a those men in the woods..." Anita was confused.  
  
"Men? In the woods?" She looked out the window, towards the tree line. Nothing was moving. "Samuel, there is nothing there."  
  
"NO!" He shouted at her for not understanding. "Not here! Home! The men with the man who shot Thomas..." He trailed off.  
  
"They shot....who? And what about them?"  
  
"They shot my brother and Father was so angry. He was crazy. He had his ax, and me an' Nathan had guns and Father said wait for him to shoot first and to pick out the officers..." He was rambling on, but Anita thought that she had pieced together what had happened. His brother was killed, and Samuel, Nathan and their father had hunted them down and killed them. She was uncertain about the part about the officers, though.  
  
"Pick out the officers?" She put her hand on his shoulder.   
  
"The men in the army. The ones Father is fighting now. The officers..." His words turned to sobs. Anita understood. She wrapped her arms around him as he sobbed, for nearly an hour before he fall asleep. She decided to leave him where he was, and went back to bed, forgetting about the cricket.  
  
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(A/N-this part was supposed to be italics, but I couldn't get it to stay that way when uploaded. Sorry.) Anita walked along a dirt path, with the trees along either side. She was in the woods again, but different from all the others. Out of the corner of her eyes, she kept seeing Redcoats, but as soon as she tried to get a closer look, they had hidden themselves. Suddenly, a shot rang out, off to her left. She spun around to see what was hppening and saw a band of redcoats walking along a trail much wider than he one she was on. The one she *was* on, for she was now in a stream, up to her ankles in muddy water. The leader of the small group fell off his horse, and all the others sprang to arms.  
  
Before they even got a shot off, three more shots rang out, and three more of them fell. They began to panic, shooting of rounds at random into the trees. Anita was terrified. She fell to the ground so as to not get shot, but soon became curious. She crawled up the embankment, to get a better look. As she reached the top, one of the redcoats fell. His hand convulsed, setting his gun off. It was aimed right at her. She screamed, and fell back down the small hill to certain death.   
  
'If this is being dead, it ain't so bad...' She tought to herself. (A/N-I know, total cliché! So sue me! But not really....) She opened her eyes, and realized that she was now lying on her back in the muddy water, and could still hear the gunshots.   
  
She climbed back up to see what was going on, and saw that most of the redcoats had already been destroyed. There were about five or six left, when a man with long brown hair jumped out of the woods. He held an ax, and proceeded to kill each of the remaining British. (But not Spike, because we like Spike. ...Oh, looky there! That rhymed! Hee.) Now there was only one left, and them man threw him into the creek and hacked into him. Anita couldn't look at it. She felt ill. Jumping back onto the trail, she saw three boys. Samuel, Nathan, and one she didn't recognize. They all held guns, and were looking at the man like they'd never seen him before. He turned back to them minutes later, and he was smeared with the Blood of the Enemy, from head to toe.   
  
(Okay, that's the end of the italics.)  
  
  
Anita sat up with a start. Sunlight poured through the space between her curtains, and she could hear the farmhands working in the fields. She got up and went into her washroom, to clean off the layer of sweat that covered her body, and soaked her nightdress. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get rid of the picture of the three from her nightmare.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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okay, that's all for chapter three! How'd you like it? I know, I said it would be up two days ago, but I decided I didn't like the end and had to re-do it. Also, I got grounded off the comp. Until Monday, so Shhhhhhh! I wasn't here!   
  
I am thinking of naming this story The Patriot's Son. Should I go with that?  
  
And for my useless poll, What are a few of your favorite things?  
A) Raindrops on Roses  
B) Whiskers on Kittens  
C) Crisp Apple Strudel  
D) Warm Woolen Mittens  
E) Bright Copper Kettles  
F) Girls in White dresses w/ Blue Satin Sashes  
G) Brown Paper Packages Tied up w/ String  
  
  
  
  
  
  
So be sure to answer *both* of my questions. If you do, you get a cookie!!! (::) Chocolate chip, none the less! Review!!!  
  
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	4. The absolute shortest chapter I have eve...

I know, it's been a really *REALLY* long time since I updated, but I've been busy. I have several stories going on at once, and it's hard to update them all evenly, especially when you have favorites among then. That, and I really don't know where I'm going with this one. If anyone has any suggestions, please REVIEW!!!  
  
I don't own the Patriot or anything else that someone has already claimed.  
  
  
!@#%$^&^()*&(*%^$%#  
  
  
Colonel Tavington, a tall, black haired, dark eyed man, sat at his desk, brooding. That bloody Martin had evaded capture yet again. He'd sent his best troops out to ambush him, and only three of them made it out alive. Three out of thirty. His men were some of the best the British Empire had to offer, and Martin's men were scum. Why did he not succeed?  
  
The answer to this was as elusive as Martin himself. He knew it had something to do with his spirit. What he was fighting for. He also knew that this whole mess was, essentially, his own fault. That foolish child had rushed him, he shot, and this gave Martin his drive. Revenge. Now he needed another push, but how to give it to him? Then, suddenly, it came to him. His children. It was his child that drove him now, and it will be his children that tear him down. Tavington laughed out loud, causing his door gaurds to look up sharply.  
  
  
!@~#@#$^%&(*)*&(%&#  
  
  
Anita took her time coming out of her room the next morning. She really didn't know why, but she wasn't quite sure she wanted to look at Nathan yet. But then again, she really did. But she was hungry, so she really didn't have time to decide what to do. She dressed, then went downstairs. Only the two girls were there, so her worries were unfounded. After eating, she went back up to her room for a while, but then got bored and made her way to the balcony over the front porch. (A/N-I know there is a balcony somewhere in the movie, but I can't remember which house. Just pretend it's this one, please.)  
  
She knew that it would have a different view than her room did, so her stories could vary themselves. Once she was out there, she set herself into a chair in the corner. As she settled herself, she realized that there was someone else there. Spinning on her heel, she found the perpetrator sitting in the corner exactly opposite her. Of all people, it was Nathan. She looked at him, then went ahead and sat in the chair she had prepared herself, determined not to be the first to talk.  
  
"Umm..." She heard from behind her. "Hey, Anita?" She heard the sounds of a chair being pushed back. Nathan was quite obviously moving towards her, and her heart gave a funny beat. "Look, I know you're mad at me, and I don't know why, but if I did something wrong, I'm sorry."  
  
Anita turned in her chair, and looked him straight in the eye. She debated a moment before smiling and saying "It's allright, Nathan. I don't even know why I was angry. I'm sorry too." He smiled too, and reached out for her hand. She took it, and they both went back to where Nathan was sitting before. His 'chair' was really a small sort of bench, made of wicker. The two of them sat out there for hours, sometimes talking, sometimes just sitting.  
  
  
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Allright, this has got to be the shortest chapter I have *ever* written. But I just can't *think* of anything to write. MAJOR writers' block. PLEASE HELP!!!!!!!  
  
As for the useless poll that I've started adding to the end of every chapter of every story I write:  
  
Why did you choose to read this story?  
A) Good Summary  
B) You like the movie  
C) You are in love with Trevor Morgan  
D) You were at my page and saw it there  
E) I told you to  
F) Read it? What? I didn't read anything!  
G) It wasn't me!  
H) Boredom. Pure and simple. 


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